Only for You
by Hetaliamaplefan
Summary: While America's away in Europe talking to the other countries, Canada and Prussia decide to take advantage of his absence in the best way possible. Prussia x fem!Canada. Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Only for You  
>Rating: <strong>M<strong> (because really, this is just pure smut, straight from the beginning - **you've been warned**)  
>Characters: PrussiaGilbert and fem!Canada/Matilda  
>Summary: While America's away in Europe talking to the other countries, Canada and Prussia decide to take advantage of his absence in the best way possible.<p>

**Only for You**

He pushed into her, swift and firmly, eliciting a sweet scream from her pink lips. He growled as he buried deep into her tight, warm cavern and felt her walls clench around him, preventing him from moving. He stared down at her flushed face, her glazed amethyst eyes, her parted lips and could only think about how sexy she looked at that moment.

He chuckled and bent down, letting his teeth graze over her pulse before he wetly ran his tongue over the spot. She arched against him with a soft mewl, begging for more in her silent way.

"You like this, Birdie?" He asked, planting a kiss on her neck. "You do, don't you? You like the pain. You like having me inside of you, filling you up. You want me to cum inside of you don't you? You want me to fuck you senseless and keep on even after that."

Canada whimpered out an unintelligible response as he bit down on her neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not hard enough to draw blood. He sucked on the mark, gently at first, using his tongue to sooth it, and then ravished it with vigor, drawing more delicious moans from the country beneath him. Her nails raked down his back, leaving behind lines of bright pink on his pale skin.

"G-Gil…!" She keened. "Gil, please! I-I need-_nnngh._"

Prussia's red eyes gleamed as he thrust into her twice and then stilled his hips. He had all weekend to tease the passive country and by God he was going to use up every ounce of time doing whatever he wanted to her. "Tell me what you want, Matilda," he purred into her ear. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Matilda writhed beneath him, desperately trying to get him to move again. She needed the friction of their bodies moving together. Needed him to do something, anything, to release the coiled energy burning up inside of her. She was so close already. It wouldn't take much.

Gilbert held down her hips, chuckling. "Now, now, Birdie. You're so impatient." He kissed her open lips, but when she tried to get him to do more he pulled away. "You never told me what you want. If you don't tell me, how will I know what to do?" He teased. "Shall I guess?"

"Fuck me!" Matilda burst out with a sob. "I want you to fuck me senseless! I want all of you again and again until we're both too tired to continue. God damn it, Gilbert, I want you to fill me up with your cum! I want… I want… to fall asleep with you still inside…of me… I…" She trembled, opening her eyes. "Please, Gil, I'm begging you!"

That was what he was waiting for. He removed his hands from her waist, planting them firmly on the bed on either side of her. He kissed her lips once more and then began to pound into her, completely unrestrained. It didn't take long for Matilda to reach completion, crying out as her inner walls squeezed him tightly. He continued to thrust into her, concentrating on holding off on his own release. Once more. He'd get her to cum once more and then he could too. Then he'd…

Well, he hadn't thought that far ahead yet. It was rather hard to when surrounded by such a delicious heat. His eyes landed on her breasts, which bounced enticingly with every push he made into her body. Oh, _yes._ He definitely wanted to do something with those. They were one of his favorite things about her. Well, other than her smile and her eyes and her fucking delicious pancakes and maybe even her personality too after all he did love to hang out with her even when they were just watching movies or—

Gilbert snarled and thrust into her extra hard. Matilda moaned wantonly, her voice louder than usual as she expressed her pleasure at the rough treatment.

Fuck. He'd almost gotten all sappy and romantic on himself. _Fucking_, he reminded himself. _That's what this is about._ It was all about plowing into her like he'd wanted to do for months, since before he asked her on that first date two weeks before. And yes, maybe the fact that her douchebag of a brother was going away to Europe for the week to try and rally the other nations into splitting them up played a huge part in why Canada agreed to what they were doing, but like hell he was going to complain.

Besides, Matilda looked as though she was enjoying herself _very_ much.

"Gil," she intoned breathlessly. "Oh, Gil… Gil~!"

Gilbert chuckled and began angling his thrusts different ways. One attempt. No. Second attempt. No. Third—

"Ah! Gilbert…!"

_There. _He aimed for that spot again and again, trying his best to continue holding out. Matilda's wanton cries turned wordless around him and he knew that she was just as close as he was.

"I'm so close, Birdie," he whispered into her ear. "Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to cum inside of you? Do you want me to fill you up with my seed? Would you like that?" He punctuated with question with a nip to her ear.

"Yes, oh yes," she murmured. "I need you to cum inside me."

"As you wish."

A few more aimed thrusts and he came hard inside of her, coating her insides with his essence. He continued moving, waiting until he heard her cry of release and then finally went still with a final deep push, letting her walls milk his cock of any remaining semen.

They lay there, entangled together, panting heavily. A soft sheen of sweat covered their bodies, cooling against the air of America's living room.

"So damn good, Birdie," Gilbert mumbled into her neck. Her hot breath blew past his ear as she tried to gather her thoughts enough to speak and he felt himself growing hard within her again. "So, where are we going for round two?"

"Kitchen," he heard her say. "I want you in a chair. I want to ride you."

_Fuck yes._

* * *

><p>The kitchen was officially his favorite new place in America's house. Or at least, it was for that moment. As he lay under Matilda, basking in the afterglow of the fucking mindblowing sex they'd just had on the kitchen table (as well as in each of the five chairs, against the refrigerator, and on the kitchen counter), he wondered how many more surfaces were left for them to abuse in the room. He figured the floor was still as option. It wouldn't take much effort to slide from the table to the floor. Maybe he could get Matilda to ride him once more before they moved to another room.<p>

"You know, if we weren't nations we would probably die from this," he commented in an off-hand voice.

Matilda giggled and he felt her walls push against him briefly. It was enough to awaken his cock once again, eliciting a second breathless giggle from the nation. She trailed a finger down his sweat covered chest, past his naval, and into the curls at the base of his cock. Gilbert moaned low in his throat when her delicate fingers skimmed past that to his balls.

"How much more can you take, I wonder?" She asked deviously. "Can you keep up with me, old man?"

"Oh, you did _not_ just go there."

She giggled again.

Gilbert removed her hand. "I am not old. I'm well aged. And I can take way more than you can."

Matilda lifted her chin challengingly. "Prove it."

Never one to let a challenge pass by unanswered, Gilbert set out to do just that. He pushed her up, making sure her legs were on either side of him before he sat up as well. He wrapped her legs around his waist firmly and then eased himself off of the table. He was very thankful when his legs held up under their combined weight even when he began walking towards the spare bedroom.

He didn't bother with closing the door, just heading straight to the bed as Matilda kissed up and down his neck, making it very hard for him to concentrate. He made it without his knees giving out and the second he got Matilda on the bed he went for her breasts, latching his mouth onto the nipple and sucking, biting, lathing his tongue up and down, left and right, anything to coax more of those wonderful sounds from her lips. One hand busied itself with her other breast while the other searched under the pillow for one of the objects he'd left there before they ever began, knowing it was where they would eventually end up. His hand closed around cool metal and he smirked into her breast.

He switched sides as he shallowly began rocking into her, using it as a distraction while he gathered her hands up over her head and used his toy to attach them to the headboard. Finished with his mission, he gave her nipple one final lick before sitting up, giving her time to realize what he'd done.

Matilda pulled on her hands, her eyes widening in surprise as she craned her head to see what he'd done. She smirked and he swore he fell a little more in love with her. "Kinky. I like it. What else you got?"

"Plenty more," he replied, delving back under the pillow. His hand came back with a bottle of maple syrup. He uncapped it quickly and let the cool substance drizzle over her chest and neck and he smirked at the hiss he got from her. The bottle was place on the table, ready to be used when he needed it next, and he bent down and got to work. He started with the hollow at her throat, greedily lapping up the sweet substance with vigor.

By the time he was done with her, she would be so turned on that she wouldn't be able to speak aside from screaming his name over and over again as he rammed into her. He just hoped he could hold off his own release long enough to win the challenge.

"You know," Gilbert said thoughtfully as he finished her left breast and moved onto the other. By that point the had to hold her down because she was squirming so much. Her whispered pleas to please, _please _fuck her were like music to his ears and made his cock throb with need. "If we were human and could have children, I bet they'd be addicted to this shit before they left the womb. And your milk? It would taste just like maple syrup." He closed his mouth around her nipple and suckled, bring up one hand to gently knead it.

Matilda moaned loudly, her words coming out even more garbled than before. She arched against him, tugging at the handcuffs binding her hands to the bed. The heat pooled in her stomach had coiled so tightly within her that any movement sent sparks of pure pleasure coursing through her body, clouding her mind with headiness.

"Gil, please…!"

He hummed and she keened softly, wantonly, her breath coming in heavy pants and moans. Gilbert decided to spend an extra minute or so on that particular nipple, suckling and nibbling and licking until Matilda was nothing but a massive pile of writhing nerves beneath him. The moment he removed his mouth from her breast, he began thrusting into her with earnest, hitting her sweet spot over and over again with long, steady, firm thrusts.

"P-please!" Matilda managed to beg, tears of frustration springing to her eyes.

Displeased that she wasn't yet to the point of speechlessness from his ministrations, he began thrusting a little harder and resumed the dirty talk that had worked so well earlier that evening.

"You feel so good around me, Birdie, you know that? So nice and tight. Warm." He had to shorten his sentences. "Mmm, yes. You like this, ja? Like me filling you over. And over. All of my cum inside of you."

"Gil…!" His name fell from her lips in a hoarse whisper before a silent scream tore from her lips. The heat in her belly exploded forcefully, filling her entire body with white-hot pleasure. Her mind went blank. Whiteness filled her vision. Her lungs burned as she fought to breath. And then she went boneless, limp, barely aware of the fact that Gilbert was still pounding into her. It was like she was filled with cotton. Warm, fluffy cotton so soft and—

A new warmth erupted in her belly as Gilbert came harder than before, refusing to move out of her and letting his semen fill her up just as he had every time that night. He kissed her temple and undid the handcuffs, dropping them somewhere on the floor. He chuckled as he rolled them around so she was resting on top of him and then pulled the covers over them. He planted a second kiss on her forehead before he closed his eyes and together they began to drift off to sleep.

"Love you, Mattie," Gilbert murmured.

Matilda smiled and snuggled against him.

* * *

><p>End<p>

* * *

><p>The title doesn't match at all, but I couldn't figure out what to change it to, so I left it that way.<p>

One of these days I'll write something with more plot and less smut.


	2. Chapter 2

Since several people asked for a continuation and I got a few ideas of what to do for it, I decided I couldn't possibly end it at one chapter. But this one really is the last. I'm moving on after this one. I think it's time I write a little RusCan.

**Only For You**

Bonus chapter

He watched her wipe down the counter tops with a wet rag, erasing the evidence of what they had been doing the whole weekend. He didn't see the point. After all, their goal was to piss off the American who owned the house by flaunting what they'd done. Matilda insisted that she at least clean up with a damp rag, that way it would only be sweeter when she broke the news to him a few weeks later.

"_Give him time to cook in the kitchen and go about his usual business," _she had told him. _"It'll be even better then."_

Gilbert had decided not to argue. He also decided to sit down in one of the chairs and not lift a finger to help out. His red eyes gleamed as he watched Matilda stretch to reach the back of the counter, rising on tiptoes slightly and poking out her butt. In that moment, Gilbert had never felt more thankful for France's desire to dress the young nation in more feminine clothing by leaving spare clothing at the houses of nations she frequented. Mini skirt's definitely suited Matilda.

"Enjoying the view, eh?" Matilda remarked, smirking at him over her shoulder. She swayed her hips for added effect, knowing just what sort of reaction she would get from her lover.

Gilbert's already hard cock strained against his pants, aching to be free.

Why had he bothered with pants again? Why had _either_ of them bothered with clothing. It was so troublesome.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed. "I'd enjoy it a bit more if you came over here by me."

"Al comes home in two hours, Gil. We don't have time to go again because you never know how to stop at just one time." Matilda said, going back to her work.

"Oh, _I _don't know how to stop?" Gilbert asked with a smirk. "Who was it who kept saying 'just once more' last night?"

A rosy hue appeared on Matilda's cheeks, slowly turning a deeper shade of pink as her mind wandered back to the night before. She shook her head. "T-that doesn't matter. Go make sure our stuff is packed while I clean off the table."

Gilbert almost said no, but when a devious idea crossed his mind he decided to go along with what she said. He stood up and stiffly walked out of the kitchen. The second he was out of the room, Matilda hurried over to the table and began to hurriedly wipe it down. She knew she wouldn't have long before the Prussian returned and she wanted to have to area at least look clean.

She bent over, stretching out her arms to swipe briefly at the middle of the table. A low chuckle caused her to freeze. _Fuck_, she thought as a warm body pressed up against her back. _I should have known._

Gilbert pressed a kiss to her neck. "You didn't really think it'd be that easy, did you?"

"G-Gil, please—"

"Please, what?" Gilbert questioned deviously.

Matilda twisted in his arms so she could face him and give her best glare, which, admittedly, wasn't very threatening. "You know very well what. I already told you 'no', so stop trying. Can't you wait until we get back to my house?"

"Your house…?" Gilbert questioned, sounding as if the idea hadn't occurred to him. His mouth slowly stretched wide in a grin. Matilda had several houses spread out across her country. He wondered which one they would go to first. Maybe one of the cabins further north where they wouldn't be bothered by anyone?

Matilda sighed, pressing her hands against his bare chest, trying to get him to back up. "Gil…" She frowned, looking him up and down. "Where are your clothes?"

Gilbert quickly snapped out of his daydream. Before his girlfriend could protest, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up so she could sit on the table. "Well, I figured that since you've cleaned everything in the kitchen, we could have a little fun before America comes home. After all, we still have…." He paused to glance at the kitchen clock. "An hour and fifty minutes to have a little fun."

Matilda let him spread her legs and place them on either side of him. She took it a step further by hooking them around him, pulling them a little closer together. "Just once more," she said, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss.

Gilbert eagerly reciprocated, his hands working to push up her skirt. Her underwear was next. Or it would have been, had she been wearing any. He smirked into the kiss, pulling back briefly. "Commando, eh?" He asked, poking fun at her.

The Canadian girl blushed. "T-they're in the wash."

"Shh, Birdie. Don't ruin the magic."

"Then stop talking."

For once, Gilbert did as she asked. He didn't say a word as he lined up the head of his cock with her entrance. He didn't give her a warning as he slowly slid into her, drawing it out as long as possible. When he was fully sheathed, he kissed her on the forehead.

Matilda rolled her eyes and kissed him briefly on the lips, locking eyes with him. "You can talk now. I know it's killing you."

Gilbert chuckled and languidly rolled his hips. "I was just doing what you asked, _sweetie_."

"And you know I'm very thankful for that, _honey_."

"I knew you would be, sugar bear."

Matilda giggled. "Sugar bear?"

Gilbert began to pull out of her. "It was the only thing I could think of. Ready?" He waited for her nod and then began to thrust in earnest, trying to be mindful of the fact that they weren't on a bed and that going all out would only hurt Matilda. It was difficult when through her gasps and moans he could make out her requests for him to go _faster_, _harder_.

Somewhere in the house, a door creaked open and slammed shut, but neither of them paid it any mind, too lost in the haze of sex to really care about anything other than each other.

"G-Gil, I'm close," Matilda managed to gasp out.

"Me too," he admitted, picking up his pace a little. His thrusts became a little wilder as he felt himself reach his peak, pure pleasure threatening to spill over. He fought to hold it back, to wait for Matilda, but couldn't. He came inside her with a low moan which may have been her name. He heard her whisper his name as she clenched around him and knew she had finished as well.

"Sure you don't wanna do that one more time?" Gilbert asked teasingly.

Matilda laughed weakly and smacked his shoulder. "Shut up. We should leave before he gets home."

"Before _who_ gets home, sis?"

Both Matilda and Gilbert froze at the sound of the voice. While Matilda groaned in embarrassment and let her forehead fall onto Gilbert's collar bone, the albino grinned and turned to face the speaker.

The table creaked beneath them.

"Hey there, America! And you brought France and England with you too? Awesome. Now we can really have a party!"

"_Gilbert!" _Matilda hissed angrily.

"Oh hon hon hon," laughed France. "It seems I have won our little bet, Angleterre. Darling Matilda does, in fact, take more after me than you. Papa's so proud!"

England glared at him. "Shut up, Frog! I knew I should have never let you spend time with her. You're nothing but a bad influence!"

"Now, now, is it truly my fault if Canada wishes to experience the delights of love for herself?"

"Yes!"

"Dude, that's not the problem here!" America yelled.

The two Europeans ignored him, continuing to argue on. It quickly dissolved from all of the blame being placed on France to which one of them was the worse influence. America interjected now and then, trying to get them back on track with what they were supposed to be doing.

"The benefits of being friends with France," Gilbert whispered to Matilda as he slid out of her. "I don't think they'll notice if we quietly slip away."

Matilda nodded in agreement. "Okay." As she began to slide off of the table, it cracked beneath her and then suddenly gave out. She yelped in surprise and latched onto Gilbert, pulling him with her.

The argument between England, France, and America ceased and for a very brief moment there was silence.

Then England turned to America with an almost-triumphant expression. "Now you understand why I refused to do anything on that table. Shoddy American craftsmanship."

"You—!" America jumped on England in fury and began to strangle the older man. "There's nothing wrong with my stuff!"

"Yes… there… is!" England choked out, trying to get his hands on America so he could fight back.

France winked at Gilbert and Matilda, mouthing "good luck" before adding fuel to the fire, somehow managing to insult both English-speaking Nations in just a few words.

Before anything else could happen, the Canadian and Prussian snuck away.

Gilbert felt there was a pretty good chance they would be going to a cabin far, far away in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong> (for real this time)

* * *

><p>And so America attempted to burn all of the furniture in his house before getting bored and deciding to just sell the place. It wasn't like he didn't have other houses all around the country. (Nor was it his favorite.)<p>

Someone requested America, England, and France walking in on Gil and Mattie. How could I say 'no' to writing that?

I've noticed it's pretty much always just France who approves of their relationship. I've read one where America was cool with it. I don't think I've come across any where England isn't bothered by it, which is why I decided he shouldn't go into fatherly lecture mode for once and instead work to foil America's plans.


End file.
